


No Word Left Unused

by redhoodsrobin (manatsuko)



Series: hold my body, hold my breath [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Angst, But also, Canon-Typical Violence, Dialogue Heavy, Dick living up to his name, Heart-to-Heart, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Introspection, Jason being his emotionally constipated self, Love Confessions, M/M, Melancholy Thoughts Caused By Blood Loss & Painkillers, Relationship Development
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-05 06:02:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14037741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manatsuko/pseuds/redhoodsrobin
Summary: - The truth sounds prettier when you're bloody and bruisedWords can't hurt you when your skin is already flayed open. Why not use the occasion to pour your heart out?(Three times Jason got hurt, and one time Dick was)





	No Word Left Unused

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is also known as 'The Evolution of Feelings, in four conversations.' 
> 
> Set in the HMBx2 'verse, but stands on its own pretty well. If you did read those: LFYL and PYCR take place after point 3 of this fic, so they're in a relationship by the time +1 happens (which is also obvious in-text tbh). Yes, this is both a prequel and a sequel. Linear storytelling who?
> 
>  
> 
> ~~I wish I had fluff to give you all for Dick's birthday, but alas, I only have this H/C fic~~

 

               1.             At First - _(Before the fall)_

 

Jason hates working in Blüdhaven. Granted, it's not often that one of his cases leads him there, but it _is_ a cesspool of crime. Sometimes the leaders of a drug cartel or human trafficking ring he's after decide to set up shop in the wharfs, and he has no choice but to trespass onto Nightwing's turf.

And to think, this week had started so well.

He had tracked down his target within a day, figured out the gang's mode of operations in another two, planned his bust by the fourth. The fifth day, today, was supposed to end with those fuckers in cuffs, or dead, depending on how cooperative they were. And lo and behold, Red Hood only had to knock a few heads together to get the info he needed. He played nice and left them to the police. The entire mission had gone so smoothly that karma dictated he had to run into Nightwing getting his ass kicked on the way back.

Make no mistake, Boy Wonder numbero uno was holding his own fairly well, but he was outnumbered and, by the look of it, on the brink of exhaustion.

Jason must have experienced a lapse in common sense. Why else would he have turned back and taken out those men on the roof? Announcing his presence to Nightwing was a bad idea no matter how he looked at it.

Sure enough, once Dick caught on to the fact not all gunshots came from the same source, he was quick to dispose of the remaining crooks and direct his energy into fuming at Jason.

All of which led to Jason's current predicament - jumping from one roof to the next, Nightwing hot on his heels. He just had to open his big mouth and provoke the guy, didn't he? His guns had gotten kicked down into some alley two blocks ago, and knives weren't proving very effective against the flexibility of a trained acrobat.

Wire wraps around his feet. He stumbles, swiftly moving to cut it off. When he looks back up, Nightwing has landed on the other side of the rooftop and is closing in fast.

Plan B it is then.

"Come now," he taunts, "No reason to be such a killjoy."

Dick looks absolutely furious, lips pressed into a tight line and body poised to attack. "You completely ruined my case-"

"Excuse you, I helped you out!" Before he has any chance to react, Dick kicks him in the side. He grunts and blocks the next blow before it can land.

"You shot five men!"

"In non-vital regions!" He shouts back.

He manages to get a grip on Dick's arm, pins him to the best of his ability, and puts all of his weight into keeping him there. Surprisingly enough, Nightwing stays down. Either he's wrung out from the earlier fight, or he's holding back.

"You had no right to interfere, and you know it", Dick glares up at him.

"And why not? Ah, is this about the ideological differences? It is, isn't it?" Nightwing twists out of his grasp and aims his next jab at Jason's throat. It throws Jason off balance for a second, long enough for Dick to put some distance between them while he reassesses the situation.

Jason laughs. "No, no, I'm flattered, really. You've worked with people with looser morals than me when it comes to killing and yet _I_ am the one you're chasing around."

"They're not you."

"They sure aren't. Lucky them." Dick's brows knit together. "Still, kinda hypocritical, don't you think? I didn't even kill anyone this time. Or are you just doing dear old Bats' outreach work for him nowadays? Too busy to do it himself?"

Nightwing lashes out again, this time with more force behind his punches. One connects with Jason's ribs, prompting him to launch a series of blows of his own. Before he can do much damage, Dick tumbles backwards, spirals out of reach and snaps back just as fast to swipe Jason's legs out from under him.

As his head hits the ground with a loud thud, Jason is irrationally glad he wore the helmet to this impromptu tête-à-tête of theirs.

"Not everything is about B", Dick snarls.

"Isn't it? Could've fooled me."

"Just because you're that self-absorbed, doesn't mean the rest of us are."

"You wound me, 'Wing, really. _I'm_ projecting? You never stopped to think maybe he just doesn't care as much as you think?"

"No, you don't get to act like he never reached out. He tried to help you, and you refused."

"Help me?" Jason sees red. "I don't want any so-called 'help' the Bat offers. Look where that got me the first time around."

Dick makes a thinly veiled sound of disgust. "And all it gets him is you spewing insults if he's lucky, another injury when he isn't. I'm surprised he still bothers."

"Yeah, well," Jason swallows. He can taste blood, though his face feels so numb he isn't sure if he has a split lip or a broken nose. "That makes two of us."

 _Fuck_. He knew he should have left Nightwing damn well alone, outnumbered or not. What was he thinking? Getting him riled up is fun, but Jason keeps underestimating how dirty Grayson plays when he is upset.

He pushes himself upright before Dick has a chance to process his own words, or Jason's reply to them, and jumps down the closest ledge. It's simple to keep going from there, ignoring the shouted "Hood, _wait_ -!" that follows him down the street.

 

 

               2.             Then - _(On the precipice)_

 

It just figures that when Red Hood runs into trouble one rainy night in Gotham, it's Nightwing that saves his ass. Because the universe loves to screw him over.

At least Dick seems too busy staunching the blood flowing from the gash in Jason's side to lecture him on the idiocy of taking on a bunker's worth of armed goons alone. Not that it had been Jason's fault to start with. He really hadn't planned on getting ambushed, let alone stabbed in the fray.

Unfortunately, things not going as planned appears to be a running theme in Jason's life.

He hadn't envisioned tonight ending with him sprawled over Dick's couch either, yet here they are. Dick mutters under his breath every so often while stiching him up, but Jason tunes him out in favor of berating himself. Getting hurt is one thing, but when it comes to injuries so severe that he can't take care of them on his own, that's a whole other level of stupid.

He hates how weak the blood loss makes him, and the wooziness that comes from taking painkillers. He hates that Dick finding him reminded him of being young and eager and careless. Most of all he hates how, despite himself, his chest expanded with a rush of relief when he realized he wouldn't have to drag himself home tonight.

Christ, he doesn't want this. He doesn't want to _feel_. It's unfair how much of a reaction Dick can elicit.

"Are you done yet?" he manages to croak out. His voice startles Dick out of the trance-like state he has been in since he started tending to Jason's wounds.

Dick frowns and fastens the last bandage. "You could try being less of a jerk to the guy that saved you."

"I don't know how."

"Try anyway."

Dick double-checks the fit of the bandages, and although his fingers work quickly, their touch seems impossibly hot. Maybe it's because of the outside chill still clinging to Jason's skin. His hair has been toweled dry, but not much else. He is shifted around as Dick searches for any bruises or lacerations he might have missed in his earlier panic. Jason has trouble wrapping his head around why Dick had been so frantic in the first place - the wound was bad, but it wasn't life-threatening.

He notices Dick's gaze linger over his scars. The bad ones, the ones with raised edges and ugly patterns from injuries that had gone untreated for too long. One thin line of scar tissue at the side of his neck proves to be particularly fascinating, if Dick's focus on it is any indication.

"You ever find out where I got it from?" Jason asks. As if the night needed any more painful memories brought up.

Dick turns to gather the first aid supplies scattered on the floor. The apartment is quiet enough that Jason can actually hear the seconds tick by on a nearby clock. In any other situation, he might have laughed at Dick's clear discomfort.

"It's from after- from after you came back. That's all I know."

Jason hums. Of course Bruce didn't tell anyone the full story. Of course he didn't. Why would he?

He lies down completely. It's easier this way to pretend he is talking to himself, in his own safehouse, staring at the imperfections on the ceiling. "You should ask B."

Dick is looking at him again. Jason can tell by the location of his voice alone.

"What happened?" Dick asks, because he wouldn't be Dick if he didn't push his luck. Somehow his questions come across as genuine - albeit reluctant - curiosity instead of an attempt at interrogation, and they are all the more dangerous for it.

"You wouldn't believe me."

"You don't know that. I might surprise you."

"You're full of surprises alright", Jason chuckles, his sides screaming at the sudden strain. Dick _has_ surprised him before. By being civil to him, for starters. By continuing to be so, unless Jason provokes him. Jason is surprising himself too, because he doesn't get the urge to do just that as often as he used to.

_Ah, to hell with it._

"'s from the time I tried to make B kill Joker."

Jason can imagine Dick's expression souring, even with his eyes glued to the ceiling. He is failing spectacularly at pretending he's anywhere but here, on Dick's too-soft pillows, the smell of antiseptic still wafting through the air.

"Joker got to you?"

He shakes his head with a snort. "Stop pretending you don't know what a batarang cut looks like, Goldie."

The tension drains out of Dick. Wary acceptance takes its place. "It got infected?"

"Somewhat," Jason admits. "Wasn't in the right state of mind to take care of it, after."

From the corner of his eye, Jason sees Dick rest his head in his hands, accompanied by a barely audible " _What the fuck, Bruce_."

He isn't sure if that reaction makes him want to laugh or cry. "And you all wonder why I'm so fucked up."

Dick winces. "Yeah, yeah," Jason adds, "Not everything is his fault. But he sure doesn't know how to fix it either."

That much, Dick should be able to understand. Nightwing may be the best of them, but he was still the first to leave the nest. At some point Bruce's support must have failed him too.

Dick clears his coffee table of a few stray pieces of gauze. He worries his bottom lip between his teeth, as if he is mulling over what to say next. Jason stares, transfixed. Later, he will blame the blood loss for the way his gaze slides over Dick's shoulders, his back, how his shirt clings to every line of his body. Jason needs a focal point to stay awake and Dick is right there, that's all there is to it. Familiar. Safe.

"He's trying", is what Dick settles on. A diplomatic response. Jason can't argue the truth in that statement - whether he fails or succeeds, let it be known that Batman never stops trying.

"He is."

"The others, too."

"They are," The sound of his own voice feels oddly distant. He really wants to sleep. "Are you?"

Dick smiles. It doesn't reach his eyes, and Jason can't figure out why that bothers him so much.

"I am."

 

 

               3.             One Day - _(Down we go)_

"I can't believe you!"

"Come on, it's not that bad." Jason backs up in defense. Leave it to Nightwing to barge in at the exact moment Jason tried to leave for the night.

"Your arm is broken in two places, your femur is cracked - not to mention the internal bleeding you suffered - and you want to go on a stakeout? What the hell, Jason."

"I've had worse," he reasons, "I don't need you to babysit me."

Dick's glare cuts to the bone. It is impressive how scary he can look when he sets his mind to it. "Yes, let me just call Bruce and have him come fluff your pillows."

"How about we don't go there?" Jason grimaces. Even as a joke, the suggestion makes his stomach clench with the memory of a week spent in the mansion at Alfred's insistence.

He likes Alfred, and can handle Tim, Cass and the demon spawn, but dealing with Bruce remains very touch-and-go. Their current standing is improved, but still far from ideal. Enough for Jason to hang around for a while.

However, a week had been pushing it. He was in dire need of some alone time. Dick apparently didn't get the memo.

"How about you stay put and rest, like you were told?"

Jason wants to tug his hair out in frustration. "I can't, the case I'm working on has an expiry date, so-"

"So I'll take it and you _rest_."

"It's just a stakeout", he protests.

"Which I'm perfectly capable of doing in your stead."

Jason begrudgingly accepts his fate and allows Dick to maneuver him back inside. He does need to gather that intel, but Dick is right. Anyone else could do it. Doesn't mean Jason has to like it. It's _his_ case.

While Dick makes a beeline for his closet, Jason pulls out his phone and starts typing.

"Should I be worried about that?" Dick glances at the phone.

"Just asking Roy if he can do me a favor and shoot you next time he sees you."

"Did you tell him why I'm here in the first place?" Dick hands him a loose shirt and some sweatpants, mindfull of the cast wound around his forearm.

"Sure", Jason says.

"I'll take that as a 'no' then."

Jason rolls his eyes and ushers Dick out of the room so he can change. He has gotten a lot of practice dressing himself single-handedly over the years, and he knows Dick has too, but he can hear the fool hover out in the hallway in case Jason needs help anyway.

His phone beeps. Another message from Roy, this time ending in a frowny face and the announcement that he'll drop by with food tomorrow. Jason groans, loud enough for Dick to hear.

"You told him?" he yells at the door.

"You weren't going to!" Dick replies. He takes Jason's shout as permission to enter the room again. He's grinning from ear to ear.

Jason tosses his helmet at him. "I hate you."

"No you don't."

"You're annoying and fussy."

"It's how I show I care."

Jason scoffs. "Care about what the old man tells you to care about, maybe."

"Can't you go one day without making assumptions?" Dick sighs. "I'm here because I offered, not because B told me to."

"Hard to believe."

"Doesn't make it any less true."

Jason doesn't know how Dick can just say things like that, little confessions that betray he cares about Jason even after everything that has transpired between them. If he keeps it up, Jason might even start to believe him.

Dick puts the helmet on a table and moves back out the window, pausing one last time to add, "Just sleep, alright? I'll be back by six, if everything goes according to plan."

"Whatever", Jason grumbles. He already spent the better part of a week resting, there is no way he'll manage to fall asleep anytime soon. He tries to tidy up for a while, before settling on the couch with a book. He puts a random B-list action movie on as well, but in the end he can't focus on either of them.

Drifting off in front of the TV probably isn't what Dick meant with 'rest', but he will have to take what he can get. He should be glad Jason adhered to the 'stay put' part of his request, at least.

When Dick eventually comes home at a quarter past six, holding a bag of groceries, he shoots Jason a disapproving look but doesn't comment. Jason blinks up at him in sleepy confusion.

"You went shopping?"

"Nah, just picked up some ice cream at the corner store."

"It's six A.M."

"So you don't want any?"

Jason carefully sits up and holds out his good hand. Dick laughs.

"Hang on, I'm going to borrow some clothes, alright?"

Even if it wasn't, he trots off too fast for Jason to get a word in edgewise. Not that it matters much. Soon enough he returns in a flurry of activity, ransacking Jason's kitchen drawers for spoons - _"The one on the far left, I said!"_ \- and makes himself at home. Jason loses the heart to complain once Dick sits down and stops flipping channels - deciding on a nature documentary, of all things - so they can enjoy their not-breakfast in amicable silence.

Now Jason can get a closer look, Dick seems tired despite his good cheer. It makes sense. He didn't have to come visit, or take over Jason's patrol. He undoubtedly has his own business to take care of. If he wanted to inquire about Jason's health, he could have asked Bruce and be done with it.

Jason doesn't realize how close they are sitting until Dick's elbow brushes against him when he reaches for another pillow. Jason's body moves on its own to accommodate the change in position, until Dick is back where he started, if not leaning slightly more towards him.

Jason's skin tingles. The room feels too warm.

He is in so much trouble.

 

 

               +1.         Now - _(Head over heels)_

 

Once again, Dick has landed himself in the Cave's infirmary. Nothing new there.

Less usual is the wide array of machines hooked to him, around him, beeping away with statistics Jason is afraid to look at but can't avert his eyes from. Blinking lights and numbers are such a cold way to quantify Dick's life.

Dick, with his radiant smiles, soft words and gentle hands that Jason doesn't know what to do with. Dick, with his kindness and his passion and his temper simmering beneath.

Dick is motion and laughter, rough fights and slow sex, the vivid colors in the night even long after he stopped being Robin. Seeing his form prone and quiet is eerie, _unnatural_. It makes Jason's skin crawl. He has seen death too close, too often, and doesn't want it anywhere near Dick.

An unattainable goal, with a life like theirs. Dick is too accustomed to giving and helping and putting the needs of others before his own, to the point people accuse him of not taking care of himself. Jason knows it isn't completely like that - Dick does care about his own life, just not at the expense of someone else's - but that doesn't make it any easier to accept.

Especially to Jason. Especially because it's Dick.

No matter how often Jason tries, he stumbles over every word he wishes he could tell him, twists their meaning and their usage until what he speaks no longer matches what he thinks. Jason sucks at relationships of any kind, and Dick, well... Dick was never good at keeping things casual. They are a nightmare of a combination, a disaster waiting to happen. Jason might never stop waiting for the other shoe to drop, even if it never does.

God, he hopes it never does.

It has only been five months - _Fuck, already that long? Really?_ \- since their first kiss, and Dick has wormed his way into every corner of Jason's life, fighting tooth and nail with a grin permanently etched on his face. Jason isn't sure how to get him back out without destroying part of himself in the process.

Voices drift down the hallway, but Jason pays them no mind. The others have been dropping by over the course of the past few hours, unable to sleep or sit still for long while one of their own is hurt. None of them had been surprised at Jason's presence, and if he lingers too long on that he might start to panic at the implications.

Nobody else enters the room though, leaving Jason alone with his thoughts and the person that occupies all of them. The hours until morning are spent in a cycle of dozing off only to wake back up in a cold sweat moments later.

Another glance at the clock, and Jason is sure it can't be long now until Dick wakes up. He still has no idea what to say. _'Don't ever do that again'_ is meaningless. They both know he would, he _will_ , in a heartbeat. What other options does that leave?

_(You scared me)_

_(I thought I lost you)_

_(Please don't leave me)_

A handful of disjointed thoughts too miserable to admit. Jason shoves them away.

He similarly ignores any other exclamation his mind throws at him - _'What if anyone walks in?' - 'They already know' - 'Not everything'_ \- and slides his hand into Dick's on top of the sheets. Feeling the steady thrum of his pulse is more reassuring than any number on a display could ever be.

He stays like that until Dick's fingers slowly tighten around his. A second more and his eyes flutter open as well, blinking against the sudden influx of light. His nose scrunches in distaste.

Jason shouldn't find it adorable, not after the absolutely terrible night he has just had because of him, but he does. Even wrapped in bandages and medical tape and with a swollen black eye, Dick shines bright enough to take his breath away.

He clears his throat. "Hi."

Dick's lips quirk up in response. "Hi."

The words that settle on the tip of Jason's tongue then don't feel as dangerous as they used to be - not when Dick looks at him like he already knows, as if Jason's walls are nothing more than paper to him and the truth is scribbled all over them.

"I love you," Jason says, and watches his world light up, "But you're a complete moron."

Dick lets out a dry chuckle, eyes the color of clear skies never leaving Jason's own.

"Yeah, I love you too, Little Wing."

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback on characterization/specific scenes you liked or disliked, etc. is always highly appreciated! ♡
> 
> My Tumblr (DC/Marvel sideblog): [ [redhoodsrobin] ](https://redhoodsrobin.tumblr.com)  
> My Twitter: [ [evexe_n] ](https://twitter.com/evexe_n)


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